Hiyori Goes to College
by Ika289
Summary: A slice of Hiyori's first semester at university... you'll never guess who her lit professor is! One shot plus omake. For the love of god, I'm not shipping anyone here. Just read it! NOTE: tagged as trifecta, since Hiyori isn't an option :/ .
1. Chapter 1

**Just for fun! A little slice of life.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own JR or SIH, but it's still fun to fiddle with their lives.**

**Warning: homophobic language**

Hiyori Goes to College

The first punch hit Kobayashi Seiji square in the jaw, knuckles connecting to flesh with such force, the spectators felt sympathy pain for both parties involved.

The puncher didn't feel a thing—in fact, her adrenaline was pumping so hard, she wasted no time in grabbing her victim by the shirt collar and shoving him hard to the ground.

"Shut up!" she spat, positively bristling with anger as she glared at the now cowering figure before her.

Kobayashi raised a hand to the purpling bruise covering the left side of his face and stared up at the terrifying image towering above him. He had completely misjudged the situation... he honestly had no idea his remarks would have incited such a reaction in someone who seemed so sweet and complacent... but the aura of the girl standing above him now could only be likened to a grizzly bear being challenged over its first meal out of hibernation.

"What did you say?" he asked in a last ditch effort to gain the upper hand, his voice cracking unintentionally at the end. He didn't want to lose face in front of his friends, but he couldn't help it—his cheeks now blushed crimson under the darkening bruise.

The girl said nothing, but leaned down as if to grab him again. Kobayashi squeezed his eyes closed, sure the end was coming.

"ENOUGH, KIRISHIMA!"

He heard a sharp, collective intake of breath from the room's onlookers and felt a sense of relief—someone was here to intervene!

He opened his eyes to see his Intro to Japanese Lit professor striding through the doorway. This image would have normally tripled any sense of terror he was feeling, but, fortunately for him, the professor's attention was focused elsewhere at the moment.

The professor snapped his fingers. "The rest of you had better get out of here if you know what's good for you," he addressed the small crowd that had gathered during the fight, pointing at the door. They fled. One girl even left her backpack.

The attacker, Kirishima Hiyori, straightened up, crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest and glowering at a fixed point in the distance.

Kobayashi, now reasonably sure that he wasn't going to be sucker-punched again, rose shakily to his knees and pushed himself off the floor.

"Kamijou-sensei, thank you," he said gratefully, addressing the professor. "She's crazy...she just attacked me out of nowhere as we were leaving class!"

Hiyori opened her mouth, obviously ready to protest, but Kamijou cut her off by raising his hand.

"Kobayashi, go put ice on that or something," he said shortly. "I don't have time for this." He dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Kirishima, you come with me."

Hiyori turned to follow her professor, but just before she crossed the threshold, she whipped around and glared once more at her classmate.

"I just want you to know...you can go FUCK OFF and DIE a hundred times over!" she exploded, before turning her heel and stomping out of the room.

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After her outburst, Hiyori's hostile energy seemed to dissipate. She trailed sullenly behind her teacher down the hallway leading to his office. Neither student nor professor spoke as he opened the door and gestured towards the couch in invitation to sit.

She sat delicately on the edge of the couch, folding her hands over her knee nervously and staring at the ground. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes—due to residual anger or anxiety over her punishment, she wasn't sure. Her knuckles were throbbing.

The teacher settled his reading glasses on his nose and took a few moments shuffling through papers on his desk before pulling his chair around to sit across from her.

"Kamijou-sensei, I'm so sorry, I just—"

The professor raised his hand to stop her again.

"Did he deserve it?" he asked curtly.

Hiyori burst into tears.

"Yes!" she gasped in between sobs.

Kamijou looked horrified at this reaction. He reached across to awkwardly pat her shoulder in what he probably thought was a comforting gesture.

"Ex-boyfriend?" he asked warily.

Hiyori was still crying. "NO! That bastard...he...he asked me... which one of my dads takes it up the ass!" she shuddered, crying harder at the shock of such crude words coming out of her own mouth. "But that wasn't the first time he's said something awful...he's been making comments all week, ever since he found out my parents are gay!"

The professor stood up abruptly.

Hiyori was shocked enough to stop crying. She watched in surprise as the man wordlessly walked over behind his desk and began searching through a file cabinet, pulling out a stack of papers and a leather-bound book. He plucked a red pen from his front shirt pocket and furiously began scribbling notes to himself.

"Umm...sensei?" Hiyori asked tentatively.

"Look, I can't afford to have brats getting in fights after my lecture," the professor said gruffly, not looking up from his papers. "All that drama kind of detracts from my lesson. Wouldn't you agree?"

The student nodded, on the verge of tears again.

"I'll let you off with a warning this time, Kirishima. You're free to go now," he said, still writing.

Hiyori rose from the couch, hoisted her backpack over her shoulder, and moved for the door.

"Oh—hang on a second," she heard her professor call. "While you're here, come take your essay from last week. It will save me the inconvenience of handing it back in class."

The tearful freshmen walked obediently to the desk and accepted the folded paper her professor offered in his outstretched hand.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and peered at her over the top of his glasses, scowling.

"And Kirishima-kun, one more thing," he said. "Next time, you might want to consider throwing something. That way you won't hurt your hand."

"Huh?" A quizzical expression flashed across Hiyori's face.

Kamijou ignored her question. "Now leave," he growled.

Hiyori hurried out of the office, not quite sure what to make of their interaction.

As soon as the door swung shut behind her, she sighed heavily. The anger simmering in her blood began to ebb, giving way to dread. She didn't even want to _picture_ Yokozawa's reaction if he found out about this (though she was reasonably sure her dad would give her a high five and leave it at that). She began walking to the train line, reluctantly unfolding her essay to read the comments on what she was sure would be another dismal grade.

She stopped short, her eyes nearly popping out of her head in disbelief.

Kamijou the Devil had given her an A+.

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**Sorry if Hiyori seems OOC, but I loved the idea of her being this sweet girl and then turning into Yokozawa when she gets angry...and that she'll go to any length to defend her daddies! **

**Let me know how you like it, and you'll get an omake :D**


	2. Omake

Omake

Yokozawa was still fuming as he washed the dishes. He had noticed the bandage on Hiyori's hand as soon as she walked through the door, and bullied the story out of her.

"Wow, who would have thought she had that in her?" Kirishima mulled out loud, still lounging in his chair at the kitchen table. "She really is your daughter after all."

There was the tinkle of broken china as Yokozawa accidentally shattered a dish.

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"Listen, Kobayashi, there's nothing you can do about your failing grade," Kamijou explained, his expression completely neutral.

"But professor, I don't understand," the freshman pleaded. "I had been doing so well!"

"Your recent work shows a lack of understanding, depth, or really anything _remotely_ resembling intelligent thought. In other words, your writing is simply sub-par," the professor said flatly. "Look, it's nothing personal. Why don't you ask Dean Miyagi? I'm certain he'll back me up on this one."


End file.
